She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. . Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand.
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